Genius Loci
by motoxfreak207
Summary: It's a fantasy/adventure story with a neo-industrial twist full of action, suspense, love, and loss. I'll add chapters as soon as I get them written. Feel free to e-mail me with any comments, complaint, or suggestion at


This is a novel i am working on. If you have any suggestions or comments please feel free to e-mail me at . Enjoy.

Chapter 0: The End and the Beginning

Imperial Calendar: September 21, 978 IC

Great Inai Plains

The earth shuddered as a great explosion ripped across the battlefield. Piles of mutilated and indistinguishable bodies lay across the vast field of battle. Only a handful of proud knights stood tall, the only opposition to the masses of Imperial infantry. The noble warriors cut a swath of destruction into the seemingly unending mass of men, orgs, and undead. A stray fire blast flew into a crag in the earth, igniting the shallow sulfur and peat deposits beneath the ground. The ground quaked as wispy, black smoke and noxious fumes belched from the fissures. The teeming hoard came to a halt as they encircled the paladins, who moved into a circular formation.

"Put a cloth over your faces! I'll hold them off while you tie them! You don't want to breathe this in!" Rorik commanded his men.

"Why are they not attacking, sir?" one of the other warriors asked as they tied the cloth masks.

"I only have one guess, and if I am right, it's not good at all." Rorik told them, holding his weapon, the legendary Tzapheiel.

Heavy footsteps thundered over the din of the clamoring enemies. The black smoke from the burning sulfur and peat formed roiling clouds in the sky, eclipsing the sun and casting an eerie light over the battlefield. The sea of enemy soldiers parted and a lone figure stepped into view.

"Shadow lord!" the masses chanted.

The figure stood at least eight foot tall. He had mottled black skin and a long, sinister face underneath the elaborately adorned helm he wore. He unfurled his massive, powerful, leathery wings, knocking at least a dozen of his soldiers into the air. He took one more step forward and his large, three-toed feet sank at least two inches into the blood-soaked dirt. The strange sunlight left an unnatural glow on his coal-black armor and a spine-chilling gleam on the emblem that garlanded his breastplate and greaves. The emblem depicted a sinister, clawed, black, hand reaching upwards inside of a six-pointed star. Across the creature's back hung an enormous sword. The weapon was at least 7 feet long and as wide as Rorik's body with a shape so wicked that struck fear and awe in the hearts of even the most battle-hardened warriors.

"Rorik," the creature snarled, "Bane of my empire and champion of the people. You have been a thorn in my side for centuries, but it seems as though you will not be able to escape from this one."

"You have no right over this land, Ivahema. Your downfall is long overdue and I swear on my life that I will be the one to liberate Karedar from your tyranny!" Rorik roared for all to hear.

"We are with you, Rorik. Till the end!" Kato, one of his knights, said from behind him.

Ivahema threw his head back and let out the most devilish laugh ever heard. He reached over his shoulder and grasped the hilt of his massive blade. "Then show me Rorik Drakoru, king of dragons!"

Ivahema raised his sword over his head with the blade pointing towards the ground and thrust the blade into the earth. A colossal shockwave erupted from the point of impact and tore across the battleground, throwing wrecked siege engines and shredding bodies in an instant. Blood splashed and sprayed from behind Rorik, marring his already dirty, bloody, and grimy armor with more gore. The wind and energy buffeted him until he was forced to his knees. When the dust cleared, Rorik surveyed the carnage. Only he and Ivahema were still upright. Ivahema's entire army had been decimated from the force of the blast. Rorik looked behind him and his stomach turned over as he saw the shredded bodies of his friends, lying in the growing pools of their own blood. Tears began streaming down his face and mixed with the dirt and blood already there, creating a nasty streaking muck which made him looked like the grieving madman he had just become. He heard a rustling and saw one of the bodies begin to move. Kato rose to one knee, clutching his ribs with one hand and holding his sword with the other. Rorik rushed to him and crouched.

"Are you all right Kato?" Rorik asked as he surveyed Kato.

"I'm fine. It's nothing but a few broken ribs. I can still fight," Kato replied.

Rorik thought for a moment. After a short silence he put his hand on Kato's shoulder, then he reached into a pouch on his hip and handed Kato his last vial of healing potion. "This should help enough so that you can fight. It would be an honor to have you continue to fight at my side."

Kato drank the contents of the vial and stood. "Shall we, my friend?"

Rorik nodded as they both faced Ivahema and went into their ready stance. Rorik held Tzapheiel at his side and Kato raised his halberd above his head, ready to strike.

"That was very, very touching, but can we get this over with? I have things to do," Ivahema said as he held his weapon out in front of him.

Rorik and Kato rushed forward and stuck at Ivahema as fast and as hard as they could. With a flurry of movements almost too fast to see, Ivahema countered and parried every strike with inhuman speed. The three warriors fought with such ferocity that lesser men would cower at their prowess. Ivahema countered a strike from Kato and sent him flying up in the air. As Ivahema dashed upwards, Rorik leapt into the air and blocked Ivahema's strike, sending him crashing to the ground. Ivahema stood and wiped a small amount of black blood from his lip. With a smile he dashed forward with blinding speed and snatched Kato up by his neck. Ivahema held him there for a moment and threw him a short distance into the air. Rorik watched in slow motion as Kato brought his halberd in front of his body and slowly fell. Just when Kato was about to hit the ground, Ivahema side-kicked Kato in the chest with such force that Rorik felt the shockwave from the blow. Kato's halberd splintered and Rorik held the sickening sound of crushed bone and metal. Kato rolled and finally came to a halt, lying on his stomach, barely moving. Rorik rushed over to him and rolled him over. Kato clutched at his crushed breastplate as his face began to turn purple. Rorik reached to Kato's side and gripped the seam of the armor and ripped it off, breaking the pins and destroying the clips. Kato took a deep breath and grimaced as Rorik cast the ruined armor aside.

"Can you breathe?" Rorik asked him.

"Just barely," Kato wheezed.

"Stay here. I'll finish this," Rorik told Kato as he stood and faced Ivahema, who had a menacing smile on his face.

"But Rorik-" Rorik cut him off with only a look.

"One of us has to survive so the story can be told to the council." Kato only nodded.

Rorik reached at his own side and tore off his own breastplate. He removed all of his armor and dropped in a pile next to Kato. He stood bare-chested and bare-footed, wearing nothing except his hakama and Tzapheiel's saya. His taut and rippled skin was gleaming with sweat and tribal dragon tattoos wove an elegant pattern across his chest, back and arms. Rorik stood tall and proud, a testament to the strength of the dragon race.

"Is this how you want it Ivahema?" Rorik called, "Then fine. Here I come."

Rorik darted toward Ivahema and unleashed a flurry of blows that Ivahema could barely keep up with. They struck back and forth, attacking and parrying with insane speed. It was a graceful, deadly dance that only one of them could emerge from alive. Rorik spun, thrusted, slashed, and parried until he didn't think he could keep it up any longer. Ivahema struck like a snake and slashed at Rorik. He threw himself backwards to avoid being cut in half, but didn't escape unscathed. Rorik rolled to his feet and clutched at newest wound. _There's only one way I can win this_, Rorik thought. _I'm losing ground, it's now or never. _

"Tired already Rorik?" Ivahema asked with a mocking sneer plastered on his face.

Rorik ignored him. Instead he focused and began releasing his charkas. The earth chakra was first; his muscles stopped shaking and his wounds stopped bleeding. Next was the water chakra; his muscles loosened and his breathing slowed. The wind chakra; he felt lighter as his strength increased. The fire charka; his boiling rage subsided and he was calmed. The body chakra; his wounds stopped bleeding and began to heal faster. The spirit chakra; his fear and inhibition melted away. The mind chakra; his mind calmed and everything left his mind except for the task at hand. Then, lastly, a chakra that only dragons possess, the gaia chakra. The moment he released the gaia chakra, he felt a surge of indescribable power and his body began to change. His feet grew and reformed, becoming tri-toed and clawed. His fingernails lengthened and his teeth became fangs. His eyes transformed into dragonish eyes and became deep red and short horns grew out of his brows. Large, leathery, muscled dragon wings forcefully erupted from his shoulder blades and his skin changed to a deep red hue.

"So that is a dragon's ultimate form. I've always dreamed of killing a dragon that could attain it. This should be fun," Ivahema crooned.

"You will not leave here alive," Rorik said simply.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Ivahema responded.

The battle resumed with increased tenacity. I was near impossible to tell what was even going on, let alone knowing who was winning. The seconds felt like minutes, the minutes felt like hours, and the hours felt like days. The fight raged on long past what either of the combatants thought possible. Swords clashed and bit into flesh again and again, but they both fought on, determined not to fall to the other. They continued their fatal waltz, slashing, thrusting, and blocking at a furious tempo, until the shadows under the eclipsed sun began to lengthen. Kato watched with awe and wonder as the strongest warrior of his entire race battle with that demon over the fate of Karedar. Then the conflict lulled, and both combatants hovered in the air, circling each other like elegant, ethereal birds of prey.

"You cannot win Rorik! You are long past your breaking point and can hardly lift your sword, let alone fight!" Ivahema roared, wheezing from fatigue.

"The thing you fail to acknowledge, Ivahema, is that I have already won. This battle's outcome has been known by Gaia since the foundation of the world. The earth rejoices at your demise. All I have to do is strike the final blow," Rorik huffed, feeling lightheaded from exhaustion.

"Is that so, Rorik? You truly believe you can strike me down? Then let us finish this, Rorik Drakoru, king of dragons!" Ivahema called as he readied his blade.

Rorik said nothing, holding Tzapheiel above his head. Then, like lightning, they darted in, determined to finish the fight. They careened headlong toward one another, an unstoppable force and an immovable object on a collision course the likes of which had never before been seen. Kato covered his head with his arms and uttered a silent prayer. The very heavens trembled at the force of the impact. The shockwave blew Kato into the air and threw him over 300 feet back. It also cleared the sky, blowing away all of the noxious black clouds that choked it, and the bright red, setting sun shone over the carnage once again. Then, a split second later, came the explosion. The blast left a crater over a quarter mile in diameter and more than 100 feet deep. Then, as if to mock the intensity of the carnage, everything was calm. A subtle breeze rolled across the desolate theatre of war. Rorik and Ivahema hung suspended in air for a few moments that seemed to stretch into an eternity. Then, without warning, blood sprayed from their chests and they fell, landing with loud thuds. Kato unsteadily got to his feet, ran over to Rorik's seemingly lifeless form, and knelt. Rorik coughed violently, spraying blood all over Kato's chest.

"Kato…take Tzapheiel…tell…the council…what happened here…" Rorik labored, body shuddering from shock.

"Rorik, I…" Kato trailed off, no longer able to form coherent words.

"You…must…do this…Lord Kato…king…of Altaria…" Rorik shakily held Tzapheiel up to Kato's chest, dragging its tip through the dirt and blood.

"Why me?" Kato asked as a single tear rolled down his cheek and he gripped Tzapheiel's handle himself.

"You are…the…last…of our order…and one…of the…last…free…living dragons…in all of…Karedar...you…must…carry on…our legacy…you…ARE…our legacy…" Rorik coughed violently again, spraying more blood on Kato. Kato watched Rorik's hand go limp and fall from Tzapheiel and witnessed the light fade from Rorik's eyes. Kato stood and strapped Tzapheiel to his back, then he walked over to Ivahema's corpse and removed the demon's breastplate. He gently picked Rorik up and put him over his shoulder and held Ivahema's breastplate in his other hand and began the long trek back to Damascus.

Imperial Calendar: October 5, 978 IC

"Your story may be true, Kato Ferenel, but what proof do you have of your account?" The council chairman asked Kato, who stood there in the condition he had been in when he left the Inai Plains. He simply snapped and called for his squire, who brought him a large bag. Kato unsinched the bag and pulled out Ivahema's ruined breastplate and threw it on the floor in front of the 12 council members, who sat in a semicircle behind a counter on a short stage. The council looked taken aback when they saw the emblem, which was still clearly visible on the armor. Then Kato reached into the bag and pulled out Tzapheiel and held it out in front of him.

"Rorik Drakoru gave me this sword and bequeathed the throne of Altaria to me right before he died. Tzapheiel should be proof enough of this. I don't believe that I am qualified to be the marquis of Altaria; therefore I cannot accept the throne. I will, however, carry Tzapheiel. It is the heirloom of his house, and since he has no sons and he gave me this weapon of his own free will just before his death, it is now rightfully mine. And as proof that he adopted me as his heir," Kato unsheathed Tzapheiel and held it out in front of him. Suddenly, the blade erupted with flames, which danced up the blade with stunning grace. The flames dissipated and Kato resheathed Tzapheiel.

"How do we know that this is indeed proof of your succession to the throne and not just a ruse to seize power for yourself? We know nothing of dragons' weaponry and the nuances of them. You have provided no corroborating witnesses or other evidence other than the sulfur and peat beneath the Inai Plains being ignited, which have been confirmed. But we did not find the body of Ivahema nor did we find Benaku Globa, his claymore. The only other thing we found that was of any consequence was the crater you spoke of. We do not fully accept your testimony to the downfall of Ivahema. This armor is proof of nothing. Perhaps if you had brought back his head, we would have undeniable proof, but you didn't. You are indeed lucky that you returned with Lord Rorik's body to Damascus, for without it you would have been arrested on sight. Bringing his body back granted you this audience, but nothing more. How do we know you did not conspire with Ivahema, help him slay Rorik, and then brought his breastplate back here to make us relax our guard?"

Kato was both furious and horrified. "How could you say that!? I have loyally and faultlessly served Lord Rorik, this council, and the nation of Altaria for 100 years! Why would I turn my back on all of that? Lord Rorik treated me as his son. Why would I betray him?" Kato quickly fell to one knee and bowed his head low. "Please council, you must believe me," he pleaded.

"You will be arrested and tried for assassinating Lord Rorik and betraying the kingdom of Altaria to the shadow lord, Ivahema. Guards, arrest him," the council chairman stated with finality as the council began to stand. Then, without warning, the audience chamber doors burst open and a tall, lanky figure stood in the doorway, holding a staff in one hand and a squirming goblin in the other. The man stood tall and strong, but he looked to be at least 100 years old. The man's snow white beard hung almost to his belt and his coat, which hung past his knees, seemed as though it hadn't been washed in weeks. Kato had only this man once, but it had been over 50 years ago. His name was Shinji and he has the oldest dragon still alive. He was easily over two millennia old. Kato was humbled beyond explanation to have one such as Shinji to come to his defense Shinji quickly strode across the room and stood in front of Kato, who was still kneeling.

"How dare you accuse one of my people of such treachery!?" Shinji roared, causing the council to cower if fear. "Every word he said is true. I found this cretin among the dead, feigning death in an attempt to escape. He can validate Kato's story. You men are a sorry excuse for a council. Your purpose is to assist the marquis of Altaria, but during Lord Rorik's absence while on the front lines, you have grown lazy and fat, accustomed to power. You have overstepped your bounds and betrayed Altaria yourselves. The fact that you have brought accusations of such treachery against this noble knight is proof of your corruption. And I dare you to accuse me of corruption and treason. It will be the last thing you ever do. Kato will assume the throne of Altaria and he will do so in three days time."

The council seemed to shrink in Shinji's presence. "We withdraw the accusations against Kato Ferenel. Arrest this goblin and confine him in the royal prison. We will hear his account at a later time. This meeting is-"

Shinji cut the chairman off. "Before we finish here, there is one more thing. Once Lord Kato takes the throne, this council will be disbanded and a new one will be chosen. Make your last three days on the council productive ones."

Outrage erupted at this statement. "How can you do that? What power do you have?"

"Silence!" Shinji called above the din. The room got deathly quiet. "The power I have has been granted to me by the kings of old, long before you were brought into this world. I was charged by the first king of Altaria, nearly 2,000 years ago, to prevent Altaria from falling into, and being consumed by, corruption. I am upholding my obligation now as I have for nearly 20 centuries." Shinji threw the squirming goblin to one of the guards and then turned around. "Stand Kato Ferenel, and follow me."

"Yes, my lord," Kato said as he stood and followed Shinji out of the council chamber.

"Do not call me lord, Kato. I am your vassal, you are not mine. And feel free to call me Shinji," he said as they walked through the fortress.

"But Shinji-sama," Kato replied, using the most respectful honorific he could think of. "I cannot be king. I am grossly under-qualified and what if I don't live up Rorik's example?"

"You think Rorik was any older or more experienced than you when he assumed the throne? He had the same inhibitions you have now. And you would do him a great dishonor to not take the throne, when he specifically gave it to you. Since he is no longer in the world of the living, I can tell you this. He planned to announce you as the successor to the throne after the battle. From the moment he met you, he has been molding you into his heir. You are the closest thing to a son he has. Do not dishonor his memory by refusing this calling."

Kato remained silent. He was at a loss for words. Then, after a long pause, he spoke.

"I will assume the throne of Altaria, but only reluctantly, and I want you to be my chief advisor," he said, looking up at Shinji as he said it.

Shinji thought for a moment then knelt in front for Kato. "I would be honored to serve as your vassal, Lord Kato."

"Please stand Shinji-sama," Kato said. "One such as you should not bow to one like me."

"That is why you are the perfect man for the job," Shinji said as he stood.

Three days later, Kato Ferenel became the Marquis of Altaria, but that was not the only change to take place. On January 1st, the new age was declared and the year became year 1 of the New Age, abbreviated NA. The Jeditia Council was disbanded and the Council of Serai was assembled in its place.

Chapter 1:

New Age Calendar: June 11, 619 NA

Damascus, Capital City of Altaria

Footsteps echoed through the cavernous hallways of the Altarian royal palace as royal knights went to and fro on official business. They were decorated with remarkable frescos and murals, inlaid with gold, precious gems, and rare stone. The stunning architecture was truly a sight to behold. Some found it very easy to lose their way in the labyrinth of passages, but one man had no problem navigating the elaborate castle. This man's name was Krys, son of Kardek, Captain of the royal guard and the greatest warrior in all Altaria, possibly the whole world. He was a testament to an age long past and a living legacy of an honor and ferocity rarely seen in that day and age. Standing five feet, six inches, his muscles, toned and strong, rippled underneath brilliant, complex steel armor that shined so bright it put the armor of the king himself to shame. Shaggy brown hair hung just above brilliant green eyes that were unending pools of wisdom and intelligence.

Krys strode down a large corridor, boots clanging on the stone and his sword, Tzapheiel, hung at his side. Krys was the youngest guard captain in the history of Altaria and the only royal knight to begin military service as an infantryman. Tzapheiel was presented to him upon his induction into the royal guard, given to him by the king of Altaria on his 19th birthday. He was only 20, but his eyes and his scars betrayed a life and experience that was almost indescribable. A hero of many battles; he had won the respect and admiration of every man had ever served with or served under.

"Captain!" a voice called from the other end of the hall, behind Krys.

He turned to see his good friend, Karu, similarly clad in ornate plate armor, running up to him. Krys turned and shook hands with Karu. "What is it, Karu?" Karu was a member of the royal guard and the order's resident sharpshooter. He was the order's smallest member, standing only five feet, four inches tall. What he lacked in size, however, he made up for with determination and accuracy. He kept his long brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail so it wouldn't block his keen brown eyes. Karu's armor was unique in that he had to have his armor specially modified so he could wear his guns. In the two years he had known Karu, Krys had seen him make impossible shots from impossible distances under impossible circumstances. Even with the magical modifications on his weapons, no man should be able to pull off the shots he has made. Krys once told him he was either extremely good, extremely lucky, or a little bit of both. But Karu's inhuman accuracy was only a portion of his skills. Krys had yet to find a better gunslinger anywhere in the world. But his personality was his most distinguishing characteristic. He would often remain silent for hours at a time, then be the jokester one minute, and then the next he would say something truly profound. Krys frequently accused him of being bipolar.

"I was sent to inform you that Marcus is back from Jedith. He's in his room now, getting ready to address the king."

"Tell him to rest. He needs it. Tell him to meet me in the Order Chamber at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning for his report. I'll inform the king," he told Karu. Karu put his right fist to the left side his chest; the Order salute, and sped off to relay the message.

Krys resumed his trip, turning the next corner and pushing open a large door, entering the Order common room. This room is where most of the knights spent a lot of their free time. The knights' personal rooms were all attached to this room. It was a very comfortable room, full of soft couches and chairs, tables for playing cards or whatever they felt like playing, and a generous number of beautiful stained-glass windows that cast a rainbow of colors around the room all day long. There were also a couple of large televisions with movie players attached. The common room was empty except for a couple of knights watching the news. Krys was crossing this room when he felt a blade tip gently touch the unarmored part of the back his neck. An instant later, as his hand shot to Tzapheiel's handle, a hand slid over his mouth silencing him. Then he heard a voice in his ear. "Gotcha," the familiar voice said. Then the blade left his neck, the hand slid from his mouth and his hand fell from Tzapheiel's handle.

He turned to see his best friend and second-in-command, Xavier, twirling a knife in his left hand. The two of them were so close that Xavier was practically Krys' brother. They had met ten years ago on the Damascan streets, both orphans, and had been inseparable ever since. Even the military couldn't split them up. The two had served together ever since the day they enlisted. He had long black hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to pierce through you almost to your very soul. Standing six feet, three inches tall, Xavier was built like an orangutan; tall, thin, and lanky. He was wearing a t-shirt and thick pants, looking as though he was about to go get into a fight. He reached out to the bushel of apples that sat on the nearest table with his knife and speared one.

"You should learn to watch your back because I might not always be there to watch it for you," he said with a smirk, and then he took a bite from the apple, which was still speared on his knife.

"If there is ever a day where you aren't there to watch my back," Krys retorted with a smile, "I'll have more important things to worry about."

Maybe, maybe not," Xavier said, mouth still full of apple.

"Where are you off to?" Krys asked, continuing the walk to his room with Xavier in tow.

Xavier swallowed. "There's a concert in the Tudo district later. I figured I'd go and see what's going on," He said, taking another bite from the apple. "What about you?"

"I'm just going to relax. I've not had time off for months."

"Well good luck with that," Xavier said as he turned to walk away.

Xavier was almost through the door, raising the apple to take another bite when a throwing knife shot in front of his face and pierced the apple through the center all the way to the haft, pulling the apple, and Xavier's knife, out of Xavier's hand. With a loud thud, the point of the throwing knife buried itself in the inside of the mahogany door frame. Xavier's hand hung suspended in midair, as if he was still holding his knife. Then his hand fell to his side and he turned. Karu sat on one of the couches, smirking and cleaning his nails with another throwing knife.

"Gotcha," he said with a smile, not looking up from his task.

"Ha ha," Xavier replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Real funny."

Xavier pulled the knife from the doorframe, pulled the apple off of Karu's knife and pulled his knife out of the apple, which he wiped on his pants and returned to the sheath at his ankle. He then threw the apple at Karu, who easily caught it, and stuck Karu's knife point-first back in the doorframe, then walked out. Krys and Karu burst into laughter. Karu got up and retrieved his knife, sheathing as he sat back down. Krys looked at Karu for a moment.

"What?" Karu asked when he saw Krys looking at him. "He had it coming."

"How is that?" Krys asked.

Kato kept silent, but Krys didn't press the issue. Instead, they both just smiled and shook their heads. Krys went back to his room and finished removing his armor and donned a sleeveless shirt, his hakama, which was black with an embroidered red dragon on the right leg, tabi, and sandals. He strode back out into the common room and sat on one of the couches, next to one of his knights, and watched the news with them as they all played rummy.

Then, without warning, an explosion ripped through the entire castle, seemingly shaking it from its very foundation. Krys, and the rest of the knights in the common room, acted on instinct. Before he even realized he was moving, Krys had grabbed Tzapheiel, his throwing knives, and a grappling hook from his room, put on his communicator on his ear, which looked like a cell phone headset, and used hand-signs to direct his knights in a defensive position in the common room. When his knights were in position, he keyed his communicator.

"Patrol, report. post one," he whispered.

"On station," a voice said.

"Post two."

"On station."

"Post three."

"On station."

"Post four."

He heard shouts, clashing metal, and the sounds of gunfire. "Multiple contacts are swarming with melee weapons and small arms. There was an explosion from both inner and outer gates and they ambushed us. We've got three down and we're losing ground. Someone get on that fifty! Hold the line!" the station chief shouted into his communicator before keying off.

Krys signaled all the knights in the common room, except Karu, to support post four, and then he rekeyed his communicator. "Interior guard, report," he said.

"Sector one is secure."

"Sector two is secure."

"Sector three sending knights to aid post four."

"Carry on, Chinatsu," Krys replied.

"Sector four is secure."

"Sector five is -"The voice fell silent with a thud, then Krys heard shouts and quick commands that were likewise silenced with barely audible thuds. There was a very short burst of gunfire, but it was also smothered by a soft thud.

"Sector five! Report!" There was a short silence, and then an eerie voice chuckled on the line.

"You know, they never stood a chance Krys. But I have to hand it to the energetic amateurs did happen to scuff my knife. Nevermind, it's just blood," the voice said in a mocking tone.

Krys quickly signaled to Karu, who was dressed in a ninja gi and tabi. He nodded and jumped out one of the stained-glass window, throwing his grappling hook upwards in mid jump and swinging out of sight. "Identify yourself," Krys said as he kicked his sandals off and silently made his way out of the now-empty common room, Tzapheiel drawn.

"You want to just skip the formalities, don't you? Well not so fast, Krys. We haven't even discussed your beloved marquis yet."

"If you had done anything to Lord Kato yet, you would already be gone and we wouldn't be having this conversation. So why don't you just tell me your name so we can discuss why you are here," Krys replied as hard sprinted silently down the strangely deserted corridors toward the royal chamber.

There was a hardy on the other end of the line. "Touché, my friend. Touché. If I told you my name then we wouldn't be having fun anymore. So why don't we play another game. Let's play tag. You're it," the voice said. There was a short burst of static, then silence. Krys hid in a secluded alcove and keyed his communicator.

"Krys to central, authorization code romeo-x-ray-two-niner-four-four-three-one-two-niner. I need the location of all communicators assigned to the interior guard for sector five this watch," Krys whispered as he sheathed Tzapheiel and used his grappling hook to climb into the rafters. He sat there perched on a rafter as he waited for a response.

"All the locators are gathered at the entrance to the throne room, but one locator is stationary on the west end of the throne room corridor."

"You let me know if that communicator so much as twitches," Krys said as he stowed his grappling hook and leaped from rafter to rafter, making his way to the communicator's location. He signaled to Karu.

"Karu, this is Krys. Can you talk?"

Karu keyed his communicator twice. It was a click system among the Order for situations where a knight was in a situation where he or she could not speak; one click for "yes" and two clicks for "no."

"Are you alone?"

Two clicks.

"Are you compromised?

Two clicks.

"Are you stalking a target?"

One click.

"How many targets?"

Four clicks. Four targets.

"Are they special ops?

One click.

"Break off and immediately rendezvous with me at the royal chamber."

One click. Affirmative.

Krys sat still, crouched on the edge of a rafter, watching the royal knights run underneath him, totally unaware of his presence. Then Krys saw a familiar figure, dressed in ripped jeans and a torn, dirty t-shirt, with long brown hair and he had a pistol in one hand and a ninjato in the other. Krys put a hand to his mouth and let a curt whistle. Xavier didn't skip a beat.

"Go on and aid in the defense of post four, I'll be right there." He slowly stopped running and looked up at Krys, who jumped down from the rafter in front of him.

"How long have you been here?" Krys asked.

"I had barely left when I saw the explosion and jumped in the fray at post four. I heard there was an enemy special ops unit inside the castle." Xavier replied.

Krys nodded. "I spoke to one of them. He wiped out the entire sector five guard and made a threat on Lord Kato's life. I'm heading there now."

"Let's get going." Xavier said.

Krys and Xavier sprinted down corridor after corridor. They stopped before they turned the corner to the throne room corridor. Xavier stood with his back pressed against the wall, pistol at the ready. He looked at Krys, who nodded. He dropped to one knee and turned the corner, keeping half of his body behind the wall for protection. His hand shook ever so slightly and he nodded. Krys went around the corner with Tzapheiel drawn, and a chill gripped him as he gazed upon a grisly scene. The slaughtered guards were strewn about the hall in semi-coagulated pools of blood. Some of the bodies were dismembered and some of them had been strung up from the rafters by their feet, blood dripping from the corpses. And hanging amongst the demented mobile was a single communicator. Krys walked up and untied the communicator, which chirped as if on cue. Krys put the blood-stained communicator to his ear.

"So you found my little work of art, huh?" the mysterious voice asked.

Krys's hands shook with shock and anger. He drew in a ragged breath, forcing himself not to vomit. He had seen the gruesome, horrid, sickening face of death before, but he had never seen such complete, bloodthirsty abandon. Only once in his life had he set his eyes on everything remotely close to what he looked at now. His first assignment with the royal guard took him to a small town just outside of Altaria. Krys, Xavier, and Marcus were sent with the guard captain at the time to investigate rumors of a black arts cult that was performing human sacrifice. The town was deserted when they arrived, but they found an underground mausoleum full of stone sarcoughagi. The bodies inside had received numerous slash wounds, had their hands removed, and their eyes and mouths sown shut. There was blood stains sprayed all over the room as if these people had fought back during the rituals. Krys's stomach had turned then due to the sheer dishonor in their deaths. His stomach turned now for the same reason.

"This isn't art. It's a massacre," Krys responded, chest pounding in anger. These were men he had lived and served with. They were as much his brothers as if by blood.

"That's a matter of opinion I suppose. We're still playing our little game by the way." The communicator went silent.

"We need to get to Lord Kato ASAP," Krys said as he turned to Xavier. He put the bloody communicator in his pocket and keyed his own. "Post four, this is Krys. Give me a sitrep."

"The city police showed up a couple of minutes ago and we're holding the attackers steady at the inner gate, but I don't know how much longer we can hold them, sir."

"Copy that. I'm sending Xavier to you. When he arrives, quickly brief him on the situation. He will lead the defense. Krys out." He drew Tzapheiel. "Do you have a communicator on you?" he asked Xavier.

"No. All I have on me is my cell phone," Xavier replied as he sheathed the ninjato.

Krys took his own communicator off of his ear and handed it to Xavier. He removed the bloody one from his pocket and put it on.

"Key the secure channel if you need to contact me," he said. Without a word, only a mere nod of the head, Xavier turned and sprinted off down the corridor out of sight. Krys keyed the communicator.

"I will find you, and when I do, it won't be pleasant," he said.

"We shall see," the mysterious voice said.

Krys sprinted down the passageway as fast as he could, making a beeline for the royal chamber. Even though the journey was short, his mind was racing. He tried to keep his mind off of the worst, but this was the first time that Lord Kato's life had been directly in danger on his watch, and his heart was racing from anxiety. Lord Kato had been like a father to him. From the day he was inducted into the royal guard, it seemed as though Lord Kato had taken a personal interest in him. Krys had never failed a mission. Never. He would be damned if the first mission he failed was the protection of his surrogate father. He reached the royal chamber and heard two familiar voices on the other side of the door in the chamber's foyer. One voice was friendly. The other was not. Krys put his ear to the door and listened to the muffled conversation.

"The machinations of the Black Hand are more transparent than you might think," Lord Kato said.

The assailant chuckled. "Is that so, Kato? If you truly do know what our goals are, then why have you not dispatched forces to stop us? I have the answer. You are afraid of us. Either that or you are afraid of putting your precious Krys in harm's way. Why is that? I wonder. Is it because you believe he can defeat us? Or is it because he reminds you so much of Rorik? The reason you protect him is no concern of ours. What does concern us, however, is how many other dragons you have hidden from us."

Krys's mind froze for a moment, and then it buzzed like a beehive that had just been poked with a stick. Who was the Black Hand? Who was Rorik? What was all this stuff about dragons? What the hell were they talking about?

"You will never know. That is a secret I will take to my grave."

"It is unfortunate to hear that. I was hoping to leave here without killing you."

At that statement, Krys climbed above the door using his grappling hook and hung suspended there for a moment. He reached down and pushed the ornate door open. The conversation stopped and Krys heard a handful of footsteps and then silence. Like a silent swooping raptor, he pushed off the wall above the door and swung through the doorway, legs stretched straight in front of him. The heels of his unshod feet connected with the face of the intruder with a strangely dull thud. The intruder stumbled backward and Krys cut a back flip, landing on his feet, couched with Tzapheiel drawn, ready to defend his liege. "Tag," he said with a smirk. "You're it."

The unknown man's head was low. He raised it as he started chuckling, wiping a small globule of blood from the corner of his mouth. He stood about a foot taller than Krys, but he had a leaner build than Krys. His corded muscles rippled underneath a black, skin-tight, nylon-and-cotton bodysuit. The bodysuit was sleeveless and the extended to just above his knees. He also wore matching ankle-high tabi. On the front of the body suit was a matte black emblem. It depicted a tribal dragon flying in a circle around a six-pointed star. He wore a single holstered .45 caliber revolver on his right thigh and hanging from the back of his black belt was a pouch that Krys assumed held ammunition for his revolver. Twin ninjatos were strapped to the back his bodysuit, sheathed. His face was narrow and angular and his eyes were slightly narrow and slanted with a black lining around them. The most puzzling feature on him was a small tattoo of a small pentagram in the center of his forehead, slightly hidden by his short curtain of sleek black hair.

"Well aren't we energetic," he said with a mocking smirk. Then he drew one of his ninjato. He then raised his other hand and snapped. A handful of black-clad ninjas in bodysuits similar the stranger dropped from the ceiling around Krys with ninjatos drawn and the grin left the intruder's face. "Leave now and I will postpone killing you."

It was Krys's turn to smirk this time. "Is this supposed to intimidate me? Do I look like a coward to you? You are truly mistaken if you think I am going to just walk out of here and leave Lord Kato here alone with you."

"I expected as much. It is regrettable that I must end your life. I would much rather not, but business is business." He turned and began to walk away.

Krys rushed forward in an attempt to stop him but his way was blocked by the ninjas. They all attacked him at once, but Krys was able to block, parry, or dodge every strike. The world seemed to move in slow motion. Krys jumped out of the circle and launched his own assault on the ninjas. He darted in and swept one of the ninjas off of his feet. He had no sooner hit the ground when Krys skewered him through the chest with Tzapheiel. One of the ninjas thrusted his blade towards Krys but he easily sidestepped the strike, swinging Tzapheiel in a short, lightning fast lateral arc, decapitating his foe. He stepped forward and bought his weapon down with a frightening blow, bringing Tzapheiel's tip down another ninja's body, slicing him open from neck to navel. Blood sprayed as the fell to the ground, struggling to breathe and trying to hold his innards in.

He continued his deadly dance, feet splashing in the growing pool of blood, cutting down foe after foe. More ninjas dropped from the ceiling as their comrades were slain. He leaped into the air and sliced three enemies in half before their feet touched the floor. One enemy tried to catch him off guard, but he parried the blow and slashed upwards, rending the assailant in half, straight up the middle. Wave after wave of ninjas came forward, but all of them fell to Tzapheiel.

The floor trembled momentarily as the remaining ninjas melted into the shadows and a monster of a man jumped to the floor, flanked by two armored knights with slung assault rifles and carrying long swords.. The man was at least seven feet tall and could not have possibly weighed less than 300 pounds of pure muscle. He wore nothing except a pair of fur boots and a fur girdle the same color as the boots. The tanned skin looked as though it was as tough as leather, stretched too tight over an almost grotesquely large physique. This man's body was a mural of pain and destruction; a tapestry of thick ropy scars and stitches. He carried only one weapon; an immense battle axe, the head of which was twice as big as Krys's torso. With a guttural, bloodthirsty roar, the giant and his armored companions charged at Krys full force. He rolled out of path of the massive battle axe as it came crashing to the floor from a two-handed blow. He danced around his attackers, searching for a weak point. He sheathed Tzapheiel and rolled backwards to avoid another strike. When he came back to his feet, he saw the armored enemies sheath their swords and shoulder their assault rifles.

Krys moved almost too fast to see. He leaped through the air, contorting his body to avoid the barrage the bullets that flew past him, and landed behind a pillar. He pressed his back as hard as he could against the marble trying to stay under cover until the knights needed to reload. Rounds dug into the pillar slowly chipping away at his cover. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way out of this situation. He might be a powerful warrior, but he wasn't invincible. He couldn't dodge bullets forever. He heard the heavy footsteps of the giant drawing closer as his mind worked furiously to find a solution. Every idea that came into his mind was more risky and less plausible than the last. The steady rhythm of the thunderous footsteps and gunfire ceased and Krys reacted on pure unadulterated instinct and adrenaline. He dropped to the floor as the giant's axe decimated the pillar.

As if on cue, the moment the axe made contact with the pillar, Karu crashed through the window opposite Krys and simultaneously threw three throwing knives, two of which found homes in the eyeholes of the enemy knights' helms. Krys watched Karu throw the rope from his grappling hook around the giant's neck and drag him to the ground only for a split second before drawing Tzapheiel and rushing to aid Lord Kato. Kato and the black haired intruder were battling fiercely as Krys leaped towards them. The warrior dodged Krys's strike, grabbed his wrist, and threw him into the air. Before Krys hit the floor, his fall halted and he hung suspended in mid-air, unable to move. His body turned and he saw that the unnamed man was holding his hand towards him, fingers twitching. Lord Kato stood stock still.

"I must commend you, Krys. That was one of the finest displays of combat prowess I have ever seen. I will honor you with my name. My name is Kiraku. I wish I could tell you more, but unfortunately you have not earned that right. I will, however, tell you that I have decided not to exterminate you. The only reason I can think of at the moment is that...well..." The man named Kiraku paused for a moment and a sneer broke out on his face. "You're just too much fun."

Karu threw a throwing knife at Kiraku, causing him to leap backwards to avoid the missle and release Krys from his magic. At that exact moment, Lord Kato raised his sword high and launched a frightening flurry of strikes at Kiraku. "Assist Karu,' Kato called over the sounds of clashing steel.

Krys turned and saw the giant man pick Karu's limp body up and throw it against a wall, laughing as he did. When he saw Krys, his face set with a grimace and he picked his massive axe up. Krys leaped towards the monster with new found tenacity and struck as hard and as fast as he could. It was a ferocious and deadly dance between Krys and this monster of a man, and Krys was determined to come out on top. The giant attacked low with a lateral strike. Krys easily jumped over the axe towards the giant's head. He changed his grip on Tzapheiel to a reverse grip in mid-air and raised it high, tip pointing towards the floor. Krys failed to deliver that fatal blow due to an arm the size of a tree trunk slamming into his body. He flew through the air, slammed into a wall, and fell to the floor. His vision blurred as he tried to get to his feet. He was dizzy and disoriented, but he knew that his speed and agility were the only things keeping him alive in this fight. He picked Tzapheiel up with his right hand and tried to reach for his knife with his left, but he was racked with immense pain and it wouldn't move. He looked down with a grimace and saw that his arm was covered in blood, a bone sticking out of his forearm, and his elbow was bent at an impossible angle. All of the sounds in the room seemed muffled and it seemed he was looking at everything through a fog. It didn't register until the last second that the giant was standing over him with his axe held high. Every instinct in him screamed at him to move but his body wouldn't comply as he watched with axe fall in slow motion.

At the last possible moment, Krys's body responded and a look of shock sprouted on the face of the giant man and his grip on his axe relaxed, but Krys didn't completely avoid the blow. The notched axe bit into his shoulder, sinking a full two inches into his body, cleaving his collarbone in two. Krys fell over screaming in pain with the axe lodged in his shoulder as the giant man fell backwards to the floor, landing with force that caused the walls to tremble. He dropped Tzapheiel pulled the axe from his shoulder as his vision swam and blood poured from the wound. He reached into a small pouch on his hip and pulled out a small syringe. He took the plastic cover off the needle, plunged it into his heart, and pushed the plunger. The syringe was full of a medicine that would keep from going into shock and passing out. It was also filled with a medicine that would travel to the injury sit and slow the bleeding. He tore a thin strip from the hem of his shirt and tied it around his torso to hold his mangled shoulder together temporarily. He looked up and saw Lord Kato, slashed, bloody, and breathing heavily, on his knees with Kiraku standing behind him, holding him by the hair.

"The only reason I killed that brute before he killed you is so that you could watch the finale. Where is the fun in killing the great Kato if there are no survivors to witness it?" Kiraku jeered.

"You may kill me Kiraku, but the Back Hand will not succeed," Lord Kato wheezed.

"That makes no difference to me, but enough talk." Kato lowered his ninjato and with a switf, sure strike, ran Kato through.

Krys's heart almost stopped as he watched Kato fell to the floor, blood pooling on the marble. The world seemed to stop. Nothing was right. He had failed. At that moment, the massive doors to the throne room burst open and the royal guard came flooding in. Kiraku vanished in a puff of smoke and Krys was vaguely aware of Xavier running over to him before he slumped to the floor and passed out.


End file.
